


Rose Pets Her Cat

by Classpectanon



Series: Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [22]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cover Art, Embedded Images, Fluff, Gen, Judaism, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classpectanon/pseuds/Classpectanon
Summary: Rose sat on a small recliner in the stormy innards of Lalonde Manor's foyer, snow swirling about in an endless eddy outside, accumulating in sheer walls of white against the windows, wicking away all visibility of the outside world. Somewhere, far in the distance, a bolt of lightning hit a tree of some piny persuasion, splitting it in half down the middle with a smoldering cry and a loud, muffled crack, every errant noise from bursting hydrogen particles swallowed up by the pillowy snow. Rose didn't even hear it hit -- she knew, intellectually, that the intense blizzard outside was merging with a thunderstorm, producing disastrously dangerous inclement weather, but surrounded by all this natural soundproofing, she was safe in her home.22/365
Relationships: Jaspers & Rose Lalonde
Series: Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085684
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Rose Pets Her Cat

Rose sat on a small recliner in the stormy innards of Lalonde Manor's foyer, snow swirling about in an endless eddy outside, accumulating in sheer walls of white against the windows, wicking away all visibility of the outside world. Somewhere, far in the distance, a bolt of lightning hit a tree of some piny persuasion, splitting it in half down the middle with a smoldering cry and a loud, muffled crack, every errant noise from bursting hydrogen particles swallowed up by the pillowy snow. Rose didn't even hear it hit -- she knew, intellectually, that the intense blizzard outside was merging with a thunderstorm, producing disastrously dangerous inclement weather, but surrounded by all this natural soundproofing, she was safe in her home.

In the fireplace, a steady burning flame loomed, casting playful dancing shadows against the walls of the foyer. Every piece of furniture was distorted into its immaculate puppet show, projected backwards in rudimentary anti-light while a churning nuclear furnace deeper in the laboratory soaked through every chunk of wall and floor and ceiling, keeping the interior of the home a toasty 72 degrees (fahrenheit) even in the winteriest of winters.

With her mother gone on vacation for some sort of scientist's conference, discussing the newest theories of ectobiology with a bunch of square-framed nerds or something of the sort, Rose had the house to herself. Oh, yes, she could easily bust the lock to the lab and explore what was doubtlessly an elaborate labyrinth full of soul-crushing abominations against nature made on a casual basis by her mother (who freely admitted to such, even when she wasn't tipsy from Shabbat wine and more prone to loosing secrets, like how Rose was actually a product of genetic experimentation and not birthed in the traditional fashion), but there were far more intriguing things to look into.

Namely, her new cat, Jaspers, and this week's Torah portion. Oh, did you consider Rose to be a lady of faith? No? Well if the answer was "no", then you would be correct in your initial assumptions - Rose still considered herself strongly of the atheistic phenomenon, but, having relatively recently Bat Mitzvah'd (a joyous, private occasion consisting of "the five old people from the closest synagogue" and "her three internet friends taking a visit using Mom's huge cash reserves"), she found herself with a newfound interest in the topic not seen since her stay in synagogue kindergarten as a child.

This week, Exodus 10:1 to Exodus 13:16. A morbid tale unfitting for the good humor she was in, depicting God sending down the plagues upon Pharaoh's houses, Moses's attempts to warn Pharaoh about the Plague of the Firstborn, and, more importantly, a bunch of rules about how to conduct passover. A dry, witless read made all the more comfortable by the old, greying-furred cat snuggled up next to her inside the recliner.

Oh, yes, Jasper was an old boy indeed - he came to them spayed and neutered, mewling weak mewls against the windowpane, and Rose immediately felt her snarky little 13 year old goth heart melt in admiration, popping the porch door open immediately to come to the rescue. Sure, he was limping in one leg, according to a vet probably in the last years of his life, greying, coated in a fine layer of dirt, and with an injured ear, but Rose would have to be some kind of monster on par with the things her mother brewed in the lab beneath them to just leave the cat out in the wild.

After a thorough washing with only the most expensive pet-safe cleaning substances, and aforementioned veterinarian visit, and 30 minutes of pleading and yelling, Rose's mom relented, and, two weeks ago, let Jaspers, as Rose had named him, become the next permanent resident of Lalonde Manor. Already, the two were inseparable, the scrawny ball of fluff almost always finding a nice crow-like perch sitting on top of Rose's head (for which she never seemed to mind too much, odd as it was) or in her lap or squeezed comfortably between her side and the arms of whatever comfy chair she was sitting in.

Today, it was a wiggling into her lap. Rose let out a little giggle and lifted her handheld Torah up before letting it rest on Jasper's space-heater warm torso as lightly and gingerly as she could manage. He squirmed and writhed and settled into place while she removed one hand from her book, using her thumb to pinch her spot in the pages while the rest of that hand kept the tome propped up.

Her newly freed right hand, as it were, went to scratch at Jasper's head, just lightly burying black nails into gentle scalp, right behind his ears, down his nose. Oh, he was so scruffy and handsome and full of fluff and wonder, and the space heater by her feet (not Jaspers, the actual space heater) was making her feel so sleepy - setting a bookmark into her book, she snapped it shut and set it onto the nearest table before reaching down to grab the recliner lever and crank it backwards.

Now in the appropriate chilling position, with two space heaters accompanying her, she let her hands idly run through Jasper's fur, working out the little fuzzy tangles that had formed in between now and the last time she had pet him two hours ago. The rest of her body lolling back onto the recliner, she let out a contented sigh and gave Jaspers a little shake. "You are such a good kitty, aren't you? Yes, I do in fact believe that among kitties, you are simply the best there is." Rose mumbled to nobody in particular.

Eventually, her petting slowed to a halt - not for lack of desire, mind, but because she had passed out comfortably in the seat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. All views, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated.  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/classpectanon)


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